


You're Awful, I Love You

by onawingandaswear



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Cannibalism, Dark Humor, M/M, as non-crack as I could make it, kink_meme, seven evil exes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-27
Updated: 2013-05-27
Packaged: 2017-12-13 03:53:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/819666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onawingandaswear/pseuds/onawingandaswear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Yes. I’ve known since the second time we met, when you brought me breakfast.” Will is speaking with more confidence now, like keeping Hannibal’s dark secret was no more of an inconvenience than refraining from spoiling the ending of a particularly intriguing film.</p><p>__</p><p>Fill for the kink_meme prompt: Hannibal learns that his quiet, shy, reserved Will apparently has a thing for murdering psychopaths, when he is attacked by one of Will's evil exes. And in order to date Will, he has to defeat all seven of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Awful, I Love You

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [You're Awful, I Love You by onawingandaswear (中文翻译)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5394872) by [cryforwhat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cryforwhat/pseuds/cryforwhat)



“Look, even if this doesn’t go any further, and we just remain friends, there is something you should know.”

Hannibal sets his whisk aside and meets Will’s apologetic gaze, quietly rejoicing at the prolonged eye contact despite Will’s obvious discomfort.

“I would hope you would find comfort in telling me anything at this point, good Will.”

Will smiles wryly and twists his fingers around the stem of his wine glass.

“Don’t panic, okay? Just promise me that.”

“Why would I panic?” Hannibal asks, beginning to feel the stirrings of curiosity in his mind, but the oven timer clicks on and his thoughts are dragged elsewhere.

Will sucks in a breath and exhales slowly.

“I know what you’re about to feed me, and I know you’re the Chesapeake Ripper.”

Hannibal wants to pause and assess the situation, but in this moment of upheaval he can only think of the delicate meat that will dry out if he doesn’t gain back control of his faculties.

“Is that so?” Hannibal says, careful not to meet Will’s eyes as he searches for a dishtowel to remove the pan without burning his fingers.

“Yes. I’ve known since the second time we met, when you brought me breakfast.” Will is speaking with more confidence now, like keeping Hannibal’s dark secret was no more of an inconvenience than refraining from spoiling the ending of a particularly intriguing film.

“It was not the first time I’ve tasted human flesh.” Will takes a sip of his wine and Hannibal watches the motions of his throat as he swallows. For the first time in a great while, Hannibal is utterly bereft of the mental cognizance to fathom where this conversation might be heading. 

“Though,” Will continues, “You are by far the most talented chef that has ever prepared it for me.”

Something like pride bubbles in Hannibal at the praise, but the reality of the situation comes back to him.

“What does all of this mean?” Hannibal asks, busying his hands with the meal, and missing the way Will’s expression turns apologetic.

“I know that you’re interested in me in a more-than-platonic fashion, and I must admit that I feel similarly.”

Hannibal does not miss the irony that this statement stops him more readily than Will’s acknowledgement of Hannibal’s true identity. However, before Hannibal can reply, Will hold up a steady hand.

“This is the problem,” Will says. “I have a number of former partners that take great delight in,” he pauses, looking into his glass as if the burgundy liquid holds the phrase he’s searching for. “ _Hazing_ ,” Will says finally. “They delight in hazing any potential suitors that show interest in me.”

Hannibal straightens his back and motions defiantly to the ceramic platter between them, bearing a meal that Will knows, by admission, claims human liver as a central ingredient.

“I know you’re a skilled killer.” Will amends, plucking a sautéed pea shoot from the dish. “But you’ve already met Tobias, so one down, six to go.”

“Will,” Hannibal says gently, resting his hands palm down on the counter to brace himself. “Are you informing me that you have a number of past-paramours who are going to attempt to kill me for pursuing you?”

Will doesn’t respond at first, instead opting to spear a piece of liver from the plate in front of Hannibal, and the man can’t tell if Will is purposefully exaggerating his sounds of pleasure as he chews or not.

“Did you add mustard seed? Don’t answer that, I can taste it.” Will tells him when he’s swallowed. “I attract a certain personality type. That type gets jealous.”

“So I am to believe you dated Tobias Budge?”

“A year ago we went on two depressingly awkward dates where he determined I was not to be of his high standards. Did not stop him, however, from determining that I should never date anyone else.” Will takes a cursory glance around Hannibal’s kitchen. “He thought I was ‘uncultured’.”

Will almost jumps when Hannibal slams his carving knife tip-first into the cutting board, but smiles fondly at the sight; an expression Hannibal has never had the pleasure of seeing.

“Then I am glad Tobias is dead.” Hannibal announces, aware that he is allowing alpha-male bravado to color the lense through which he is assessing this quite unexpected turn of events.

“Carol used to do that when she was upset.” Will says wistfully, and Hannibal rubs his face in irritation.

Will sobers and points at Hannibal with a steady finger.

“Don’t get frustrated, she tried to skin me after we broke up. Now, you bring that level of suppressed rage to your next few encounters and we might just end up a couple.”

Will sets down his glass and circles the counter to take Hannibal’s hands into his own.

“I like you, I really do, but we can’t have a lasting relationship if you’ve been strangled with your own intestines.”

Hannibal looks at Will, really looks, and sees bright eyes devoid of their normally haunted pallor.

“You said six remain.” Hannibal asks, running a thumb over Will’s fingers.

“Six.” Will smiles up at him. “Try not to die. Your company is far superior to theirs.”

**Author's Note:**

> I tried. I really did. Title is taken from the Ludo song 'Love Me Dead'.
> 
> Feel free to drop me a line on my tumblr if you'd like to chat or stay updated on what I'm working on: onawingandaswear.tumblr.com


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